


Pride Goeth Before a Fall

by TheLadyKeira



Series: Freedom [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awesome Charlie, Baltimore, Castiel Does Not Understand Humans (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury Lives, Curious Castiel (Supernatural), Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Explicit Language, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, My First Fanfic, Nerdiness, Pre-Slash, Pride Parades, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyKeira/pseuds/TheLadyKeira
Summary: Dean and Sam need Charlie's help right away, but considering her current location, sending Castiel to fly over and pick her up might not be the best idea - or it might be the start of something good.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Castiel
Series: Freedom [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163027
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	Pride Goeth Before a Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DOOMCATS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DOOMCATS/gifts).



> This short, fluffy vignette is my first work of fiction. I'm a technical writer and a former journalist, but I've never seriously tried my hand at fiction for fear of failure. This year, I've set a goal for myself of doing one new thing per month that I'd normally shy away from because I've let that fear keep me bound to the ground for too long and I'm ready to fly. 
> 
> Thanks to my beloved Doomcats for the courage.

Charlie wipes her wet hands on her jeans as she hurried out of the bathroom and onto 29th Street, because of course they were out of paper towels. Not that it mattered - she’d by dry soon enough. Baltimore Pride was always hot. _In more ways than one_ , she thinks, eyeing a blonde in a Wonder Woman crop top and an iridescent silver miniskirt.

Taking a step closer to blondie to strike up a conversation, Charlie feels her phone buzz. Hopefully, Jen is texting her where to meet up. Maybe they’d even found some shade. Redheads and sun don’t mix. Fishing her phone out of her bra, she’s surprised to see “Secret Squirrel” on the screen. Well, that can’t be good. It’s not like Dean calls just to chat. Something’s wrong. And it’s probably something big. _Please don’t be Lucifer_. Ducking into the alleyway where it’s a smidgen quieter, she answers the call. 

“Hey Dean. How’s it -”, before she can even finish the niceties, Dean cuts her off. 

“Hey Charlie. We need your help. There’s this thing happening with the map table. We think it's showing demonic activity, but something’s hinky.” he says, sounding far away. Great, they must be on speaker. That doesn’t bode well. 

“Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a day or two, and I’ve got nothing. It looks like Lucifer, and he’s definitely up to something big, but we can’t figure out what, or where the table is getting its information from, or if it’s even reporting activity on this plane. But get this...” continues Sam. 

Dean butts back in, “Cas tried to check out a few of the locations, but they’re warded out the ass, so that’s no bueno. Something fucked up is definitely going down. The map table’s the only lead we’ve got and that big-ass computer in the basement only likes you. We need you to come take a look at it and use your magic to figure out what’s going on before Chuck’s emo kid starts another apocalypse.” 

Charlie breaks in when Dean stops to breathe. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, we just stopped an apocalypse. Can’t he take a vacation or something? Ok, I’ll try to book a flight out tonight but I might not be able to get there until morning. I’ll grab a car and meet you guys at the Batcave.” 

Dean chimes in with “No can do, my Queen. This shit doesn’t look good and we need you here pronto. Cas’ll come pick you up in a sec.” 

Charlie sputters in shock, looking around wildly at the rollicking Pride festival. There are drag queens with beehives and platform heels not 5 feet away double-fisting Orange Crushes. The new dispensary on North Charles is handing out rainbow weed flags. She’s covered in glitter, sporting a rainbow shirt featuring a phaser that reads, “I can’t even shoot straight” and more than half drunk. 

“Now? Like right now? No way!” Charlie’s voice rises with shrill panic. “What the fuck, Winchester? I’m at a Pride parade, hip-deep in all 7 deadly sins! You can’t send an Angel of the Lord here! I’ll go back to my friend’s place and he can meet me there, or in a church or something. There’s a really nice cathedral around the corner. I’ll call you when I....” 

“Hello, Charlie.” rumbles that distinctive voice, scaring the shit out of her as the Angel in question materializes to her left. 

“Fuck - I mean - fudge. He’s here. I’ll call you back.” Charlie squeaks as she mashes “end call”. 

“Hi, Castiel,” she says as nonchalantly as she can. Charlie moves in front of the Angel, attempting to herd him down the alley away from the parade. She takes his hand and tugs on it as she tries to keep his attention on her instead of the festivities. 

“So, can we stop by my friend’s apartment on the way to the bunker? I’m going to be able to figure out what’s up faster if I have my own gear. Do I give you directions or just think about it really hard or what?” she says brightly, swinging their joined hands and hoping he won’t notice what’s going on outside of the alley. 

Of course, she rolls a 1 on her Deception check at the worst possible time. The perpetually alert Angel doesn’t miss a thing, easily peering over her head to take in the noisy, glittery tableau. 

“Are you attending a festival? I was unaware that this was a holiday?" Castiel inquires politely. _Fanfriggingtastic_ supplies the voice in her head. 

“Um, yeah, I was meeting some friends, but it’s okay. It’s just a minor holiday, nothing to see, definitely no reason to go look at anything out there, let’s just hurry up and grab my stuff and get back to the bunker, we’ve got work do, right?” She tries to divert his attention again to no avail, as Castiel slips his hand out of hers and moves toward the parade. 

“Or not. Oh, this is so bad, Dean’s going to kill me.” Charlie mutters as she scurries toward Castiel, his long, sure strides moving him ever closer to the sinful spectacle. _Sodom and Gomorrah_ whispers the little voice in her head helpfully. Charlie wants to melt into the pavement, and not from the heat. It could not be any worse. She’s so mortified that she can’t even move, on the verge of passing out from abject horror. 

As they reach the mouth of the alley, the parade is at its apex. A drumline reverberates from down the street. Clouds of glitter and bubbles are floating everywhere. Britney Spears’ “Gimme More” is blasting from a pink feather-bedecked float crewed by the Baltimore Flamingos Gay Rugby Club. People wearing rainbow everything or not much of anything at all are dancing enthusiastically. A combination of booze, cigarettes, weed, and that ever-present Baltimore Harbor muck scent permeates the air. 

“It’s very colorful. The human predilections for music, dancing, debauchery, and nudity have remained consistent as a component of celebrations, although bonfires and animal sacrifice seem to be out of fashion.” Castiel observes the spectacle impassively like he’s watching a nature documentary. “I see many decorations with “Pride” written on them. What does this festival celebrate?” 

_Ok, maybe I can Jedi mind trick this shit, distract him with Dean..._ “It’s a celebration of love, and life, and freedom, and stuff. We should get going, we don’t want to keep Dean waiting. You know how he gets. Time to go. People to save. Things to hunt.” Charlie babbles desperately, tugging on the Angel’s sleeve. 

Castiel ignores Charlie’s insistent tugs. Taking a few steps toward the teeming mass of people at the end of the alley, he bends over to pick up a small rainbow flag from the ground. After inspecting it like it holds the secrets of the universe, the Angel looks back at Charlie again. 

“You haven’t answered my question. What is the “pride” element of the celebration? What is this festival in honor of? A great victory? Is this a battle flag?” he asks, waving the little flag. 

Charlie completely freezes, like baby-deer-caught-in-headlights freezes. She desperately wants to give a glib non-answer that will satisfy the Angel’s curiosity without exposing the truth - a Dean answer. But she’s a shitty liar on a good day and now she can’t even breathe, let alone think. Besides, lying to an angel has got to be at least a venial sin. 

Castiel looks at her closely, noticing that she seems uncomfortable for the first time. 

"Are you ill? Your heartbeat is elevated, and you appear quite pale...” he says, concentrating that angelic laser focus on her as he reaches toward her with two fingers extended.

 _Blood and bloody ashes. Can’t he read minds and like sense when people are lying? Yes. No. Maybe? Shit..._ Charlie panics. There's no way she’s going to manage to come up with a decent cover story for this shitshow and sell it while he’s staring into her freaking soul like that. Her best course of action is to explain what’s going on vaguely and hope that he’s too focused on the mission to ask questions now. Or ever. 

“No, I’m fine, Castiel. Really. Thank you.” she gulps. 

Charlie steels herself and takes a deep breath. “It’s an LGBTQIA Pride festival. It celebrates people like me living our lives and loving whoever we want openly and freely, without fear. Gay, straight, bi, pan, ace, lesbian, questioning, old, young, it doesn’t matter, everyone’s welcome at these festivals to celebrate all kinds of love and no one has to fight for their right to be themselves.” 

“Celebrating love is admirable. It fulfills one of my Father’s most sacred commandments, to love one another. But you said "without fear" and mentioned battle," says the Angel, doing the air quotes. “I recall that past human love celebrations typically included fornication and imbibing copious quantities of intoxicants, but not battles. Although Saint Valentine was beaten and beheaded, but that was an anomaly. The Roman emperors of that period were often subject to demonic possession.” 

“Not battles like you’re thinking of Castiel”, Charlie smiles. “Queer people had to hide in the shadows for a long time and pretend to be someone they weren’t to avoid being disowned by their families and losing their jobs or getting hurt, even killed, for who they loved. People's families still reject them and it's bullshit. It's still really dangerous in a lot of places, especially for gay guys and people who are trans or non-binary, but in some places, I can safely hold my girlfriend's hand and walk down the street - and that's worth celebrating." 

Meanwhile, her brain has set up a litany of panicked commentary. _“Oh fuck me, not only did I bring an Angel of the Lord to a Pride parade, but I also just told him that I’m gay. I’m going to a special hell, in the really, really bad part. Lucifer will be my roommate. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Crowley might as well just send his hounds to drag my soul downstairs right now because I’m about to get smited. Is that even a word? Smote? Fuck.This is so bad. RIP me...”_

Castiel tilts his head to the side, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would I smite you? You're not possessed, and you're not a monster...” 

“What? Did I say that out loud? Oh, Frak!” Charlie wrings her hands, panicked. 

“No, but you were thinking very loudly. It was hard to miss.” says Castiel. 

_Be brave, Gryffindor. In for a penny.._. “Because I like girls, Cas. Like, I like-like them. Which is definitely a top sin on the big man upstairs' no-no list, and you’re like one of the sheriffs who enforce that.” 

Charlie gulps. She’s trying desperately not to puke on the Angel’s shoes and/or faint. “That’s why I wasn’t worried about helping translate the Book of the Damned. I’m already damned. At least when I get to Hell, I’ll know people, am I right?” she tries for a chuckle, but it comes out as more of a choked squeak. 

“Oh, Charlie. I assure you, my Father is utterly indifferent to sexual orientation, as am I.” Castiel says sadly. “There is nothing in any legitimate book of the Bible that prohibits homosexual relations. The Word has been corrupted by evil men for their own ends. That is a true sin. Perhaps the Commandments were unclear...” 

Castiel breaks off when he sees that Charlie is staring at him wide-eyed. He can sense her primal fear and see the pall that it casts, dimming her usually shiny soul. Dean would be unhappy with him for upsetting her. He’s learned from his hunter training that pleasantries like jokes tend to make humans feel reassured, so he gives it a try. 

“You shouldn’t worry. Even if you do end up in Hell after you perish, I am certain that Crowley would offer you his finest accommodations as an honored guest and contact us immediately to retrieve you.” He continues, awkwardly patting her shoulder and going for an encouraging smile. “You have a good soul, Celeste Middleton. Strong and bright. Not marked for Hell.” 

Charlie starts at the use of her government name, breaking free of her paralysis. “Thanks, Cas. You're a really good person. angel. friend...” she says, hugging him. He even remembers to hug back, but not too tightly, imbuing the hug with a touch of Grace to soothe her. 

As Charlie pulls back to suggest that they get going, she feels the Angel become inhumanly still. He steps in between her and the street, assuming a deceptively casual warrior’s stance. “Who are those people?” he says as his eyes narrow, pointing to a nearby corner. Charlie raises herself to her tiptoes to peer past the much taller Angel. He’s gesturing to a group of protestors with big, bright signs proclaiming, “God Hates Fags” and “Gays Burn in Hell”. One of them is loudly preaching through a bullhorn, exhorting the crowd to repent or face eternal damnation. 

“Oh, those assholes.” she sighs, rolling her eyes in a perfect imitation of a Sam Winchester bitchface. “That’s the Westboro Baptist Church. They show up at events like Pride parades or DragonCon to wave signs and preach about how God hates people like us. Me, I mean me. They’re not dangerous, just ignore them.” Charlie waves her hand dismissively. 

Castiel’s low rumble of menace surprises her. “They’re very dangerous, Charlie. They’re false Prophets, blasphemers that claim to speak for my Father when they do not, spreading poisonous lies in His name.” 

Even though it’s a hot day, Charlie shivers as static builds up in the air. It feels like the last few minutes before a thunderstorm breaks. She isn’t the only person noticing the disturbance either - some of the revelers nearby start looking around, unsettled by the strange energy. _Seraphs are the Shields of God_ , the little voice reminds her, _and this one harrowed Hell._ The Angel radiates righteous menace. Charlie swears she can see the shadows of wings behind Castiel as his blade drops into his hand. He looks like he’s about to start turning people into pillars of salt. 

“Okay, that is definitely his smitey face. Dean is going to fucking kill me,” she mutters. Realizing that something Old Testament is about to happen, she grabs the back of Castiel’s trench coat with both hands, pulling with all of her strength to try to divert his attention. 

“Hey, Cas no, you can’t just go get all medieval on their asses in a public street. We'll get arrested. Besides, don’t we need to go save the world again? Like right now? Doesn’t Dean need us?” Charlie lays it on thick, hoping invoking Dean will snap him out of it. Her heart is pounding. She sends up a quick prayer to Carrie Fisher. _Help me, Princess Leia, you’re my only hope..._ Fortunately, it works. She nearly faints with relief when Castiel turns back to her.

“You’re right. I allowed my anger to cloud my judgment. Stopping Lucifer has to take priority.” Castiel pauses. “However, that doesn’t mean that their crimes should go unpunished.” He goes unnaturally still again for a minute or so, then reaches toward Charlie, preparing for Angel Airways takeoff. 

Charlie’s curiosity prompts her to ask, “What was that about? Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I was speaking with my brother. Regrettably, I am unable to punish the blasphemers at this time due to our previous engagement with Lucifer and the current impending apocalypse. However, I'm certain that my brother Gabriel will enjoy taking care of them. He's probably already here somewhere.” Castiel smiles, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Are you ready to go?” 

Charlie nods as Castiel grips her shoulder and they vanish, ready to start solving today’s new puzzle. 


End file.
